


Edge of the Unknown

by BoxOnTheNile



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mass Effect Fusion, Andromeda AU, Asari Grey, Drabble Collection, Multi, Other, Pathfinder Washington, Turian Grif, carwash siblings, minor references to grimmons and yorkalina, nile has become permanently attached to their bullshit at this point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/pseuds/BoxOnTheNile
Summary: Wash had been Pathfinder less than a day. In that time, he'd lost his father, gained a voice in his head, and had the lives of everyone in the Initiative placed in his hands.Thankfully, the Nexus had a bar.(A collection of oneshots in a Mass Effect: Andromeda fusion.)





	Edge of the Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> I..... don't need....... another fucking au..............................
> 
> I've been sitting on this one for..... three years? at this point? But I was still writing for overwatch at the time so it sat on a backburner and then i moved and started Long Way Back to the Light and.....
> 
> I wrote this on a plane. Be kind and lmk about any typos.

Wash had been Pathfinder less than a day. In that time, he'd lost his father, gained a voice in his head, and had the lives of everyone in the Initiative placed in his hands.

Thankfully, the Nexus had a bar. The beer was bad, the liquor worse, and the company miserable. Simmons, the only other survivor of the failed mission on Habitat 7, sat next to him, nursing his own beer.

“What now?” Simmons finally asked. “There's only so long until even the Hyperion's generators give out, and then…”

“The Nexus dies,” Wash finished. He downed the rest of his drink.

_**There's not a high enough alcohol content to give you the blackout you're after.** _

“Thank you, Epsilon,” Wash said through gritted teeth. Simmons glanced at him, then flagged down the bartender to get Wash another drink.

“Still getting used to him?” Simmons slid the drink over carefully, mass effect fields weaving through his fingers. “Sorry.”

“It's fine. And, yeah, it's… an adjustment.”

_**I'm a fucking delight, thank you**_.

“And he knows how to swear.”

Simmons snorted. They both fell quiet. 

_**Incoming heat signature, headed right for you. Three, two, now**_.

Someone cleared their voice behind them, turian subvocals audible. “Pathfinder Church?”

Wash flinched. “Washington, actually.”

The turian had orange patterns painted on his plates. “Sorry. I heard Director Hargrove grounded you.”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Simmons said, turning to glare. “‘ _Oh, Pathfinder, you're our last chance of survival, I'm keeping you right here where you can't do fucking anything.’_ How does that help anything?” 

The turian’s faceplates flared in amusement. “There's a lot of people who agree with you.”

_**I interfaced with his omnitool. It's registered to Dexter Grif. He and his sister Kaikaina were invited to the project by Resource Manager Andersmith himself. Served Palaven mandatory military time, but got in a lot of trouble for keeping Kaikaina out of the service. Oh, shit, what the-** _

Grif’s omnitool beeped, and he glanced at it. “I would have told you anything you just hacked if you'd asked,” he said. 

Simmons eyes lit up. “You modified your omnitool? How did you get around the standard regulators? What code language? Did you-”

“Simmons,” Wash said. “Maybe introduce yourself?”

Simmons smiled sheepishly. “Lieutenant Richard Simmons, formerly Alliance.”

“Dexter Grif, formerly a fuck up, now a fuck up in a new galaxy.”

_**Simmons heartrate has increased, and his brain released a surge of dopamine and serotonin.** _

“I really don't need to know that my new friend is an alien fucker,” Wash muttered. Simmons turned bright red, and Grif started laughing.

“Oh, spirits, that's amazing,” Grif said after a moment, subvocals trilling. But listen,” he grew serious, “if you want to actually do something, I might have… accidentally shifted a few supplies to one of the Pathfinder ships and gathered a crew. It's not a big crew, but it's also not a big ship. Of course, we only have about,” he pulled up his omnitool, “seventeen minutes before the inventory discrepancy is noticed and Director Hargrove strips my plates and feeds me to the varren. Or… whatever equivalent he can find in Heleus.”

Wash looked over at Simmons. “Wanna probably get ourselves killed?” 

“I mean, beats waiting for the power to run out,” Simmons shrugged. “Besides, I am combat trained with my biotics.” He drained his glass and grimaced. “God that's awful.”

_**Already paid your tab, countdown at fifteen minutes and twenty three seconds.** _

Wash shoved away from the bar counter and pulled Simmons to his feet. Grif guided them from the Vortex and across the docking bay. An orange salarian caught Grif's eye from the bay and _bolted_ , sprinting up the access ramp of the most gorgeous ship Wash had ever seen. The engines started.

Pandemonium broke out immediately, serveral turians and humans in security uniforms shouting and people yelling in equal parts fear and excitement. “That's our cue,” Grif said, and started to run. “C'mon, the code splice York planted will only keep the the bay doors open for a minute!”

“York?” Wash called back, sprinting after him, Simmons at his heels. Grif didn't answer, far more focused on reaching the ship.

The cool pressure of a mass effect field wrapped around him, pulling him and Simmons and Grif faster until they hit the steel plating of the access ramp. It sealed behind them, and the asari matron at the doors beat on the bulkhead. “They're clear, let's go!” Wash staggered at the sudden acceleration.

“Sorry about that,” the asari chirped. “We've been planning this little venture for weeks, and with the hope you brought, we needed to up our timetable. Still went rather smoothly, don't you think?”

“This is Dr. Grey,” Grif said. “She has a bad habit of forgetting to tell people her name, and manhandling them with her biotics.”

“After six hundred years, I've introduced myself enough,” Grey told them. “People will either ask or figure it out.” She ushered them out of the airlock and into the bridge proper.

Wash received the answer to his earlier question. “York! I thought you were on the Hyperion?”

The man grinned and pulled Wash into a hug. “I was gonna, but one of the Nexus geologists dropped out last minute and I _technically_ have a degree. I just used it for demolition. They transferred me over three days before cryo.” His eyes softened. “I heard about your dad. I thought ‘Lina was trained to inherit the title if necessary?”

“She was,” Wash told him. “There was a problem waking her up.” York's face twisted with horror. “She's alive! She's alive, just comatose. Doc says she'll come up with a little time.” 

York smoothed a thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. He and Carolina had matching ones: his the outline of North Carolina, her the outline of New York. “But she's okay?”

Wash's omnitool turned on. “I'm monitoring her brainwaves pretty much constantly,” Epsilon said. “Quantum entanglement generators in both the Hyperion and here in the Tempest let me be both places at once. There's no lasting damage. She's good.”

“Oh!” Grey grabbed Wash's wrist, pulling his omnitool closer to his face. “Is this the incredibly illegal AI?”

“Epsilon,” the incredibly illegal AI answered. “I do have a name.”

The omnitool faded out again as Epsilon pulled back into Wash's implants. 

“Thank you,” York said softly. “Welcome to the Tempest, Wash. The asshole of a salarian in the pilot's chair is Bitters. The engineer, Lopez, is probably down in the drive core, and you've met Grif and Dr. Grey. Who's your biotic friend?”

“Lieutenant Richard Simmons, the alien fucker,” Grif said, and Simmons immediately punched him, using his biotics to throw the turian against the opposite wall.

“Break my ship and I break you,” Bitters said. 

“Well, Pathfinder Washington,” Doctor Grey said. “Your ship. What should we do? To Eos, and the failed colonies? Or should we look for somewhere new?” 

“Eos,” Wash said. “Hargrove… Hargrove said something attacked? Until we find out what, and why, nowhere is safe for a colony.” 

York grabbed his shoulder. “Eos it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wash- human, Pathfinder  
> Simmons- human, biotic  
> Grif- turian  
> Grey- asari  
> York- human  
> Bitters- salarian


End file.
